The Italian's Pregnant Mistress
‘Because I’m such a superficial person?’ He shot her a tight, cold smile. ‘I don’t remember you accusing me of that particular trait three years ago.’
‘You went out with a model,’ Francesca retorted. ‘That says it all.’
‘In other words, you consider yourself to have been superficial and shallow then. Is that it?’
‘I was glamorous and you went for the glamour.’
‘And your boyfriend didn’t? Look in the mirror, Francesca. You might no longer dress in skimpy designer outfits and strut down catwalks, but you’ve still got the same face and the same body. You might think that packing in the modelling job and going down the sensible career route has suddenly turned you into Ms Averagely Good-Looking whose mind turns men’s heads, but let me assure you that the way you look is still going to be what ropes them in.’ He allowed the insult time to ferment before going on. ‘And, once you’ve roped them in, who knows how long the attraction will last? You cannot have failed to notice that your lover was paying more attention than was strictly polite to my fiancée…’
So that was what this visit was about, she thought. He hadn’t come to apologise about Georgina’s slightly tipsy introduction to them, nor had he come in the role of big-hearted Mr Kind who wanted to save her from her incompatibility with Jack. He had come because he had noticed Jack’s flirting. It hadn’t been obvious, but then Angelo was a man who noticed the most subtle of nuances.
‘That’s not true!’ Francesca said quickly. ‘He’s just very friendly, very outgoing, very charming.’
‘So outgoing and charming that he barely looked at you once during the entire time we were sitting at that table?’ He laughed as though she had taken leave of her senses.
‘We weren’t on a date. Of course he wasn’t going to sit and stare at me with big infatuated eyes!’ She could feel patches of bright colour on her cheeks. ‘We were there to do a job and, since we’ll probably be dealing mostly with your fiancée, of course he’s going to try and form a bond, make sure that they can communicate!’ Who was she kidding? Underneath all the perfectly courteous chit-chat, Jack had pulled the ladies’ man out of the drawer. She had detected it in the modulation of his voice and the husky note of his laughter which, she now reflected, there had been far too much of. Georgina hadn’t cracked any thigh-slapping jokes and her coy remarks certainly hadn’t deserved the level of amusement they had received.
‘You have no idea how difficult it is catering for someone when there’s a personality clash,’ she forged ahead valiantly.
‘And how much easier when your lover can charm and flirt his way into his client’s affections, hmm? Is this a double act you two have perfected? I imagine it works a treat with the golden oldies too.’
‘Don’t be sordid,’ Francesca said sharply. ‘If Jack’s manner was out of place, then I apologise on his behalf. So we’re quits. Two apologies that cancel each other out.’ She pushed herself away from the counter and was heading for the kitchen door when his hand snapped out and caught her wrist.
The touch galvanized her body into immediate shameful response. She clenched her fist and it was all she could do to maintain a normal voice.
‘I’m not finished yet,’ Angelo said smoothly. He could feel the slight tremble running through her body straight into his. It was shockingly energising, and very satisfying. Lover or no lover, he still got to her.
He had to shake himself with the reminder that he was a man engaged to be married. As quickly as he had grabbed her wrist, he now dropped it.
‘I don’t know what to say.’ Francesca clasped her arms to her chest and kept her head averted, talking to the door, although she could feel his eyes boring into her. ‘I know you’re probably angry but, like I said, Jack is a sociable animal. There would have been nothing intentional in his behaviour towards your fiancée.’
‘Would you like to look at me when you say that or is it easier to say when you’re turned away?’